


It must be broken

by shinesurge



Category: Kidd Commander (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Guns, Ship shenanigans, phineas has feelings about her crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 14:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15687675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinesurge/pseuds/shinesurge
Summary: During a particularly boring stretch of sailing, Phineas asks Ulrich to teach her to shoot his revolver.





	It must be broken

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't give Phineas a gun.

This trip was stretching long, to the point where the empty days were testing Phineas' patience. She had taken to napping during the daylight, sometimes in the cool glow of Lucky Noon's heart with her bare back pressed against the stone, frequently in the garden on the grass. An unseasonable cold snap had blown across their path today and forced her inside, and now she sat dozing in a beanbag under her coat, her feet shoved under the kotatsu in their basement while Ulrich quietly cleaned his guns on the tabletop. The balcony door was open and Agatha was sitting outside, near enough for company but far enough not to feel claustrophobic, Phineas guessed. The ship hummed along, the sound of Agatha's birds cooing to themselves blew in on the chilly draft and kept the silence cozy.

Phineas watched Ulrich's hands, at first only because they were a motion for her sleepy eyes to track, but after a few minutes she began to pay attention in earnest. The metal clanked gently against the table, whispered roughly as he brushed the pieces with some kind of scrubber thing. His hair was tied back and he had his glasses on, which always made Phineas feel good. He had only started showing his rougher ear once they were alone on the ship, it was nice that he felt comfortable enough for things like this at least. She sighed languidly and shifted her feet under the warm blankets, sinking further into the bean bag.

"Teach me to shoot." she said. Ulrich's hands didn't falter.

"Hm?" he murmured. He sounded like he was only half listening, completely absorbed in his work.

"Teach me to shoot." Phineas said again. Now Ulrich paused and looked at her.

"Why?" He didn't seem indignant or sarcastic like he did when he thought Phineas had said something dumb, which was what she'd expected in response. Just puzzled. She shrugged.

"I wanna try it."

Ulrich looked thoughtful as he returned to scraping a bit of grime from a stubborn crevice. Phineas was sure he would say no, really only made the request spur of the moment as something to do, but he furrowed his brow at his weapons' bones scattered on the table.

Then,

"Sure, just let me finish here."

* * *

 

Ulrich led her out to the front deck. The flintlock stayed inside, but to Phineas' surprise Ulrich offered her the revolver straight away. She hesitated.

"Second thoughts?" he asked, when she didn't move. Phineas shook her head and took the metal in her hands. It was much heavier than she'd expected.

"No, you're just usually so strict with them. It's different." Ulrich smiled placidly.

"Well, I've unloaded it, for one thing-" he reached out to guide the barrel away from where Phineas had inadvertently pointed it at herself. "-but don't get in the habit of that." Phineas nodded. Ulrich let go again. "But if you're going to use it, you should get used to holding it."

Phineas wasn't quite paying attention, engrossed in the weapon in her hands. Certain things, special things, sometimes shone like people did. Jocasta's coat, woven by hands creased with magic and carried so far through so much, was saturated in fire and sunshine; the wood in Gideon's cracked compass flashed independently of the yellow stone inside. Ulrich's weapons had never glowed, not that Phineas had noticed, but in her hands it seemed to _sing._ It hummed with the reverberations of all the times Ulrich had used it, the psychic weight of lives ended and saved and changed buzzing through the shining metal, hundreds of bright silver lifelines all tangled round the trigger. _Holding_ it, now she could feel its chill winding in delicate but insistent scroll through the grooves in her aura where commanding lived, pulling itself along with capillary action. Silver shivered up her spine and she gripped it instinctively tighter, mortified she might drop it in front of Ulrich.

Ulrich, now quite familiar with his commander's episodes, watched her carefully and waited for her to come back. Finally she broke her glassy gaze from the gun and met his eyes.

"What is it?" He asked companionably. Phineas swallowed.

"There's a lot here," she said, like she was gonna say more. Her voice was different, thinner and smoother and it made Ulrich shake his head to clear the static from his ears. Phineas snapped back into focus.

"Mm! Sorry," the silver echo was gone from her voice. She smiled, rubbing her thumb unconsciously against the engravings. "I'm here now, I'm good."

"What _is _it, though?" Ulrich asked again. "Did you see something?" Phineas looked down at the metal in her hands.__

____

____

"You've had this a _long_ time huh?" Ulrich took an instant too long to respond.

"Some time, yes."

"You've rubbed off on it, it's impressive actually," she gently ran a fingernail down into a screw in the body. "metal, uh, manufactured stuff like this doesn't take as good as handmade. The...the aura, the stuff usually slides right off. It's fine, it's good there's nothing wrong, I just wasn't ready."

Ulrich looked pensive. The wind picked up around them and it died away again.

"Lucky Noon? If you wouldn't mind."

Three glass bottles grew up out of the railing suddenly. Ulrich hummed disapproval.

"Bigger," he said. The bottles were replaced by ornate black dinner plates. Phineas whined.

"I could'a hit those." she grumbled, planting her feet towards the targets. Ulrich moved behind her and reached around her shoulders. Phineas giggled.

"Hi!" she chirped.

"Hello," Ulrich found her hands and folded them in his, gently positioning them around the firearm; he firmly set her index finger outside the round guardy bit that arced around the trigger, and pressed her thumb over the thing sticking out the back of the gun, the switch she'd seen him click before he fired. He'd named it before, what was it again? She felt the switch click under both their fingers, then Ulrich curled her thumb out of the way, tapping it where he had set it.

"Keep these tucked in like this if you don't want to lose them." Phineas nodded as he let go, holding the grasp. "And don't ever put your finger on the trigger until you're ready to shoot." Ulrich stepped aside and looked her over.

"How's it feel?" Phineas blew a lock of hair out of her face.

"Heavy." Ulrich smiled.

"It's reliable." he glanced at the targets.

"Okay, close your fist and squeeze the trigger." She did, unhesitant, and nearly dropped the gun when it kicked back in her hands. Ulrich couldn't help a little laugh.

"Alright?" Phineas giggled.

"It popped!"

"That's what this ammunition does. Again?" Phineas steadied herself towards the plates, pulled the switch-thing and remembered to fold her thumb away before she fired, holding much more steady this time. She watched the chambers spin into place.

"Neat!"

Ulrich came closer and took Phineas' hands again. She let him move her so she was holding the barrel with one hand and aiming the grip at Ulrich. He grasped it.

"See? It's like a knife, you don't point the business end at someone unless you want to do harm."

Phineas was trying to listen, but when Ulrich touched the gun, took the grip in his hand, a surge of silver shot through her arm again. She slacked her teeth and felt sparks jumping across them, similar enough to commanding for her to recognize it but different enough she knew it was Something Else. Ulrich had stopped speaking. He plucked the gun from her fingers and began to load it with live rounds while Phineas regained her senses.

"Will you just tell me what keeps affecting you?" Ulrich asked, not looking up. "What's wrong with it?" Phineas watched his hands. She'd seen this dozens of times but she still swallowed against a flare of affection in her throat as he balanced bullets between his fingers.

"It's, ah. A lot of you, there's a lot of you echoing in this gun. Probably the other one too." Ulrich spun the chamber gently, smooth and weightless on its axis, then snapped it shut. "It happens a lot with weapons and, just uh. Stuff you carry with you every day."

Ulrich reached up, hardly looking, and the second his hand was level with his elbow he fired, destroying the plate near the bow. Before the shards could hit the deck they suspended, then drew back to reform the target with the peculiar sound of unshattering porcelain. Ulrich nodded to himself, then carefully handed the firearm to Phineas, again emphasizing the correct movements.

"Take your time," Ulrich said while Phineas tried to remember how to position her hands. "no point in getting in a rush."

Ulrich looked on patiently while Phineas squared her hips with the plates on the railing.

"Don't hold your breath." Ulrich suggested. Phineas hadn't realized she was doing that. Irked at herself for taking so long, she squeezed the trigger.

The kickback was much less violent this time; in fact it was barely noticeable at all. Something clinked to the floor by her feet and Ulrich snorted before he could stifle his laugh. Phineas stared stupidly at the bullet that had rolled against her toes.

"What happened??"

Agatha appeared in the doorway, nudging aside the curtain and leaning against the frame.

"What's all the shooting?" she asked. A pigeon was puffed up inside her scarf, nipping at her fingertip.

"Ulrich's teaching me!" Phineas answered. "I think I'm having problems though."

"Try again." Ulrich said. Phineas went through her preparation again, then fired with the same results.

"What's going onnnn" Phineas whined, nudging the shell with her foot.

"I think you're pulling the force out of it when it kicks back."

"Are you _sure_ it's not the gun?" Phineas quipped. Ulrich took the revolver and shot down one of the plates in a movement almost too fast for Phineas to follow.

"The gun is fine."

Outside the doorframe next to Agatha, Noon appeared in their strawhat and sunglasses. Noon poked at the scruff of the pigeon's neck, who seemed just a bit nervous at all the gunfire.

"It's a shit craftsman what blames his tools, Phin." Their voice was scratchy and giggly. Phineas fixed the peanut gallery with a grimmace.

"I could use _y'all_ for target practice instead." Ulrich tapped her shoulder and offered the weapon.

"Come on, try again." Phineas readied herself.

"You're doing everything right, the kickback will not hurt you." Ulrich said, making a valiant attempt at not being patronizing. "Don't flinch."

"I ain't flinchin'!"

"You are. Instinctively it seems." Phineas huffed and fired a little too quickly; the bullet whizzed past the center plate. Noon and Agatha clapped. Phineas lowered the weapon and looked at Ulrich incredulously.

"I think I hate this actually." Ulrich smiled.

"I figured as much." Phineas handed the revolver over and Ulrich started to unload it.

"How long did it take you to get good at this?" Phineas asked. Ulrich wasn't wearing his holsters and carried the gun in his hands as he walked inside after Agatha. He dug his nails into the grooves of the screws, exactly as Phineas had done earlier.

"Like we said. A long time." The plates on the railing vanished. Phineas, alone on the deck, gathered the spent shells that had fallen at her feet and followed her crew inside.


End file.
